


Sacrifice

by boldlygoingnowhere



Category: Evil Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Scots gaelic, F/M, FINALLY contributing to the fandom, Kinda, Linguistics, Major Original Character(s), Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Time Travel, domestic violence mentions, this is gonna be sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2018-12-12 18:00:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11742258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boldlygoingnowhere/pseuds/boldlygoingnowhere
Summary: Time traveling is hard. Love and lying only complicate it.





	1. Jack and Coke

**Author's Note:**

> Guess what! I'm back! I think it's been like two years. I've been itching to write Evil Dead fanfiction forever. So here I am! Somewhat self-indulgent Evil Dead fanfiction. Enjoy.
> 
> I do not own Evil Dead.
> 
> I also do not speak Scots Gaelic or know anything about linguistics, really.

The clock on the desk was the only sound as Felicia Webb slept fitfully. For the last three nights she had been plagued by nightmares of horrific creatures and swirling mists. For the past three nights, she had chalked it up to too much coffee too late at night. A side effect of being busy helping out with a Very Important project translating pages for a Very Important professor in the Archaeology department.

'This is all a part of grad school', she would think to herself as she woke up once again in a cold sweat.

Tonight, she wondered if she was wrong. She flung the blankets off of her and she pushed herself out of bed to go look at her translation notes. The only reason she had gotten the job as a first year grad student was because there weren't very many other people who focused in Celtic languages at the university. Everyone who did was either busy or not interested in doing menial labor for an archaeologist. Dr. Price paid decently well, and it would look great on her resume.

But Felicia was starting to regret taking on the project. The ancient scraps of parchment spoke of human sacrifice and odd rituals. Dr. Price had assured her that this wasn't a common find within the region, and maybe it pointed to occult activity.

What region? Felicia had no clue. It had to be somewhere in the United Kingdom as everything was written in Scots Gaelic-something she confirmed with her advisor.

The young woman rubbed her eyes and scanned through the papers to see if there was anything that might lead to her bad dreams.

Before her were the words:

‘Bidh tuiteam de fhuil, agus ùine a ‘tilnndadh.’

Beside it was her own handwriting

‘Blood sacrifice to change time?’

She would have to run it by someone else in the morning. She had a much better grasp on Irish Gaelic and needed some assistance to fully understand Scots.

There was a picture of what Dr. Price thought was an incantation or invocation:

‘Na bha seann, a-nis -  
Gealach thairis air a ‘ghrian  
Ghrian thairis air a ‘ghealach-  
Fhuil beatha air a thoirt seachad  
Airson gaisgeach anns an àm de dh'fheum seo-  
Tha mi a 'sireadh fear a chaidh a dhèanamh de theine’

While Felicia could pick out words, something about this passage confused her. The phrasing was weird and didn't quite make sense.

“I need sleep,” she groaned as she drug her fingertips down her face.

There was a half-full bottle of Jack Daniels on the kitchen counter-payment for dog sitting for her neighbor. It was a stupid idea to drink herself to sleep, and Felicia fully recognized that. But it was just this once. She hadn't slept more than three hours in the past couple nights, so what was the harm anyway.

Felicia poured herself a Jack and Coke-well a Jack and Diet Coke- and a bowl of Frosted Flakes. When she drained her glass, she poured herself another and watched a compilation of dog videos on YouTube.

Being a woman of relatively small stature, Felicia was pretty far gone half way through her third Whisky and Diet Coke. It was them when a far more idiotic idea struck her.

“I’ll just do the thing,” she slurred slightly, “then I’ll stop thinking about it and I can finally fucking sleep. Get it out of my system.”

She fumbled in her drawers for a knife suitable to do the job-first getting turned off by her long chef’s knife and toothy bread knife before settling on a small but sharp paring knife.

To “set the mood” she lit the first two candles she found, causing the air to become a sickening blend of sea-salt caramel and cherry lemonade.

With the blade in hand and translation notes in front of her, Felicia took a deep breath.

She sliced her right palm, and let out a gasp. The alcohol didn't numb the pain like she thought it would. Nevertheless, her blood hit the floor in droplets.

Should be good enough. A blood sacrifice is a blood sacrifice, she chuckled internally.

In her most dramatic interpretation of a Scottish accent, she began the incantation,

“Na bha seann, a-nis. Gealach thairis air a ‘ghrian. Ghrian thairis air a ‘ghealac.”

She paused to see if anything was happening. Maybe the candles flickered a little bit more than usual, but she chalked it up to a draught.

“Fhuil beatha air a thoirt seachad. Airson gaisgeach anns an àm de dh'fheum seo. Tha mi a 'sireadh fear a chaidh a dhèanamh de theine.”

Nothing happened.

Felicia exhaled, a little disappointed. She had cut her hand for nothing. Oh well, at least she could maybe get some rest.

It was then when she noticed another phrase in the image. It was scrawled under the incantation in a different ink-blood maybe.

“K-klaatu barada n-ikto?”

The candles extinguished, and her blood, now a small pool instead of drops, was absorbed into the floor. Felicia jumped to her feet as a deep rumbling shook the room.

“What the hell?”

Above her, a vortex opened, and she stared at it in slack-jawed horror.

She didn't have much time to react before the vortex sucked her in with its strong winds. It tossed her around for awhile before it spit her out onto pavement.

Shaken and with bruised knees, Felicia took in her new surroundings. A back alley? Not exactly what she expected. Something smelled, probably the dumpster. She did note that it was broad daylight now, not the middle of the night, and it was cold. She picked herself up off the ground, but stopped herself.

Was she really in any state to be wandering around? A quick glance down gave her the answer. No shoes, pajama shorts, and a bloodstain on her oversized shirt. Plus she was still drunk and bleeding.

The street didn't seem to be too busy, maybe she could sneak to somewhere more private to figure this all out.

With a deep breath, she darted out from the alley and down the street. It seemed to be working, there was no one around. Felicia noticed that the cars on the street were all outdated in appearance but looked new otherwise. There was a seemingly intact phone booth a couple feet away. She stopped in her tracks and furrowed her brow.

A display of boxy CRT televisions caught her eye. They were showing a news program.

“October fifteenth…nineteen eighty three?” She breathed

The young woman started hyperventilating, “what the fuck? What the fuck?”

In her panic, she didn't notice another person on the street with her until she backed into him.

The man grabbed her by the shoulders and righted her.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice a mix of annoyance and concern-mostly annoyance.

“Y-yeah,” she blurted out, unsure of what to say.

“You don't look okay.”

He was about early to mid twenties, give or take, and a good foot taller than her with dark hair and eyes. His faded green coat made him seem larger than he was.

“I need to get going,” she lied, “someone’s waiting for me.”

Felicia struggled against his grasp, finally breaking free when the man was distracted by a strange noise coming from the electronics stores.

“Wait!” He called out, grabbing her wrist with a cold, metal hand.

“Let me go!” She demanded, “I have to get home!”

He threw her behind him and pulled a shotgun out of his jacket.

“What the fuck dude?” She shouted.

Her words were drowned out by a high-pitched screech and glass shattering. A woman came flying out of the door of the electronics store. Felicia couldn't get a good look around the man’s broad shoulder, but there was something inhuman and oddly familiar about her.

A wave of nausea hit the young woman and she closed her eyes tight.

“Wanna tango lady? Let’s go!” The man quipped. He moved forward while still keeping his right arm-the one with the metal hand-back towards Felicia in a protective gesture.

“We’re here for your soul,” the woman cackled.

Felicia had seen creatures like this in her nightmares, that's why this was all so familiar.

She ducked under his arm, “what's going on? What is that?”

The woman cackled unnaturally again, “looks like little Ashley’s got a friend. I’ll take her soul and make you watch, just like all the others.”

Frozen in terror, Felicia stared as the woman advanced on her.

“Bye lady, your TVs were always overpriced,” the man-Ashley, apparently-stated with a soft smirk.

He pulled the trigger on his shotgun, hitting the woman right in the head. She exploded all over Felicia. To which she responded by doubling over, vomiting all over his shoes, and collapsing in a heap on the sidewalk.

Ashley was quick to act, without much fanfare he tried to pick her up and when that didn't work, he scooped her up in his arms.

“You're definitely not okay.”

“Thanks for saving me.”

He grunted.

“Where are we going.”

Silence.

“Where are we going, Ashley.”

“Ash,” he mumbles.

“What?”

He sighs, “call me Ash.”

“Fine, Ash, where are we going?”

“My place, we gotta talk some things over, you can use my shower.”

“What? No way!” She exclaimed, “put me down!”

He stopped, “listen baby, a lot just happened and I think it's best if you come with me. I’ll explain after we take care of whatever’s going on with you.”

He leaned her against a car while still holding her up himself and fumbled for something in his jacket pocket-keys. He unlocked the passenger’s side and helped her in before getting in the driver’s side.

 

'Guess I don't have much of choice', she thought.

“My name’s Felicia,” she offered him, “Felicia Webb.”

He laughed as he turned on the car, “nice to meet you. Ash Williams.

“What was that thing?”

“A deadite.”

“So like a zombie? A sentient zombie?”

Ash shook his head, “demon.”

“Demon zombie?”

“No a demon demon.”

“Oh.”

The car went silent. Judging by the exasperated tone in Ash’s voice, she decided to leave the questions for later.

The vehicle was burning up and smelled of vomit and rotting flesh. Felicia placed her head against the cool glass and watched the city go by. She could tell by the landmarks that she was still in Dearborn.

“Do I need to call the cops for you?” He asked, abruptly.

Felicia snapped out of her thoughts, “what?”

“Is there's someone I need to call the cops on?”

'He thinks I'm running away from an abusive situation. Explains my appearance and why I don't have anything on me, I guess.'

She shook her head, “no cops. Please.”

If he called the cops, they would find out she didn't exist. For another five years anyway. Besides, she had watched enough Doctor Who in her life to know that she shouldn't go blabbing to everyone that she was from the future. It could mess up the space-time continuum...or something.

“Alright, no cops. Makes things easier on me anyway. Don't exactly have a license for the boomstick.”

Felicia chuckles, “boomstick?”

He smiled, “shotgun.”

“Gotcha.”

He pulled up to an apartment complex, “we’re here.”

Felicia knew automatically where they were. Her sister had lived here during nursing school. Though technically that wouldn't be for another twenty-two years. The building was only slightly in better condition.

“Do you think you can walk?”

She nodded and vaulted herself out of the car.

Still, he placed an arm under hers to steady her.

His apartment was a small one bedroom-only decorated with beer paraphernalia and old copies of Playboy-which he sheepishly tried to hide under the couch.

“Didn't plan on company,” he coughs, “showers in there. Should be towels. I’ll, uh, find you something to wear.”

Felicia nodded and hobbled into the bathroom. It's practical-shower, toilet, sink. Pretty standard. She fumbles with the knob but gets it going pretty quickly.

She stripped out of her dirty pajamas and stepped into the stream of hot water. It felt amazing on her skin. She took a second to revel in it, but realized Ash still needed some. So she went quickly, using his masculine-scented soap and shampoo.

As she left the shower and wrapped herself in a surprisingly fluffy towel, she found a pile of clothing stacked on the sink-a shirt and pair of boxers. It's definitely going to be too big for her, but she gets dressed anyway.

“Ash, I’m done if you need it,” she said as she emerges from the bathroom, toweling off her hair.

He popped out from the kitchen, “let me see your hand.”

“My hand?” She looked down and remembers the cut, “oh yeah.”

He’s got some gauze.

Felicia furrowed her brow, “why are you being so nice to me?”

Ash shrugged, “I almost got you killed. Let me see your hand.”

She held it out to him and he began to wrap it up.

“Why was that thing after you?”

He laughed bitterly, “it's a long story. I’ll explain later after you get some sleep.”

The two stand in silence as he continued to wrap her hand.

“I cut it on some broken glass,” she lied, half-heartedly fueling what he already believed.

Felicia’s explanation caused him to look at her with sadness in his dark eyes.

'God he’s handsome', she thought as her breath caught in her chest.

She shook her head as she withdrew her hand, “thanks.”

“No problem.”

Another pause.

“The bed’s in through that door, I'll be out here if you need me,” Ash stated

Without saying anything, she shuffled into his bedroom. It was messy, but the bed looked inviting. As she got comfortable under the sheets, she heard the tv click on. The Knight Rider theme song carried her off to sleep.


	2. The Fabric of Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time works in strange ways. It can be hard to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know it would be nice if I actually got off my ass and wrote more. But here is chapter 2. Sorry for the wait.
> 
> I don't own Evil Dead.

According to the clock on the bedside table, Felicia woke up exactly three hours and seventeen minutes later. The bedroom around her was strange and surreal. In her sleepy and somewhat hungover state, she had no idea what was going on. The light streaming in from the street and noise from the TV in the other room only made her head throb even more.  
As she blinked around in her near-dark surroundings, she slowly came to her senses. A feeling of disbelief mixed with despair washed over her.  
She was in 1983 in the bedroom of a young man who had saved her from a zombie. Wait, no, a demon. He saved her from a demon.  
But that’s only if she wasn’t going absolutely crazy. Maybe she was just remembering the dream she was having. Maybe she got drunk and ended up in some guy’s bed. That explanation wasn’t completely unrealistic, but it wasn’t what she remembered.  
With a groan, Felicia pushed herself up and out of the bed. She was in desperate need of food and aspirin. No matter what was actually happening.  
Tenderly, she prodded out of the bedroom. The television was now playing the news. A woman with large permed hair discussed something going on with snipers in Beirut. She made a small noise of disbelief.  
She had gone back in time.  
The encounter with the demon was real.  
“You’re awake,” the man sitting on the couch-Ash-states.  
Felicia took two steps back, coiling back into herself.  
His brows furrowed, “What’s wrong?”  
Her mouth opened and then shut again. She didn’t know what to say. There was a fuzzy memory of a cover story about running from an abusive boyfriend.  
“I-I lied, kinda,” she begins.  
“You lied?”  
“Not really.”  
“What?”  
With a deep breath, she continued, “before, I led you to believe that I was running from someone.”  
He didn’t say anything. That was somehow worse.  
“I think I…I think I uh, time traveled.”  
A small smile played at his lips. Felicia feared that he would laugh at her and think she was losing it.  
Instead he just asked her, “what year?”  
She was taken aback by how well he was taking it.  
“2017.”  
He nodded his head, “alright, so how did you get here?”  
It was her turn to furrow her brow, “I’m a linguistics student. I had these pages that a professor gave me to translate for him. They were really odd. I, uh, got drunk and went through with one of the rituals outlined. Ended up in a back alley here.”  
“Lame.”  
“Wait what?”  
“When I time traveled I went back to the 1300s and almost became a king.”  
Felicia wasn’t quite sure if she should believe him.  
Ash continued, “I was a real hero. Saved the castle from the onslaught of the dead. Got the girl. But I had responsibilities so I came back.”  
He could tell she didn’t believe him, so he opened a dusty trunk that was sitting in the middle of the room. He pulled out a cloak and suit of armor.  
“See?”  
“So, you like renaissance fairs?”  
He sighed heavily, “No, I got this stuff from England. From the castle. Where I was a hero, remember? I just told you. Don’t you listen?”  
She just laughed. Even though she had just time traveled herself, his story was far too ridiculous for her. But then she spotted a book in the chest.  
“Where’d you get that?” she asked as she reached for it.  
“Don’t touch that!”  
She didn’t listen to him and picked it up anyway.  
“I said don’t touch that!”  
“This is a valuable artifact! There are loads of archaeologists who would die to get their hands on this! How did you get a hold of it?”  
Felicia turned the book over, smoothing her hand over the human-skin leather. She had actually never seen it in person before, but Dr. Price had included pictures with the pages he gave her.  
“You know what this is?” Ash asked, lurking protectively over her shoulder.  
“It’s the Necronomicon Ex Mortis,” she breathed, “it’s been lost for decades. All my department has are bad copies in the wrong languages. I’m translating one of those copies for a professor. That’s how I got here! I read from one of the pages. Nasty stuff, blood sacrifice and all-“  
“How fucking stupid are you to do a ritual that included a blood sacrifice?” he interrupted.  
“There was a lot of Jack Daniels involved. I thought that if I went through with it, I would stop having the nightmares. I didn’t actually think it would work.”  
Ash was staring at Felicia, “What words did you use?”  
“Klaatu barad-“  
He clasped his hand over her mouth, “don’t say it. Bad things happen when you say those words.”  
Slowly he removed his hand away from her mouth, “you’ve gotten yourself in some deep shit here, you realize that, right?

“I’ve been sent back in time to ten years before I was even born, there are weird demon things wandering about, and I’m standing some strange guy’s living room wearing his clothes. Yes, Ash, I realize that I’m in some deep shit.”  
The man in front of her did the unexpected-he grabbed her by the back of the head and kissed her, hard. Felicia responded by slapping him. He just laughed and rubbed his jaw.  
“Don’t do that!”  
“Sorry, baby, thought it would cheer you up.”  
Suddenly she felt very uncomfortable staying in this apartment. She sighed heavily and crossed her arms in front of her chest.  
“Where are my clothes?” she asked softly, “I need my clothes.”  
“They’re in the washing machine.”  
“Of course they are,” she grunted, “as soon as they’re done bring them to me. I don’t want to stay here anymore. I’ll figure out my own way out of this shit.”  
“Hey, what’s going on?”  
“Oh, maybe I don’t like men grabbing me without my permission. I barely know you! You can’t just grab me and kiss me like that.”  
“Come on, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”  
“Whatever, just bring me my clothes when they’re done,” she stated as she stalked back to the bedroom and locked the door behind her.  
She could hear Ash mutter something as he threw the armor back into the trunk.  
Felicia backed against the wall and fell to the floor. Tears started to prick the corners of her eyes. She really didn’t want to cry, not here. Not in front of Ash.  
Still, the stress of her new personal reality was starting to get to her. The tears began to streak down her face and before long she was full-on sobbing.  
There was a knock on the door.  
“Hey, Felicia,” Ash’s voice came through the door.  
She cursed herself for letting him hear her as she wiped her eyes.  
“Felicia.”  
“Just a second!”  
She found a box of tissues and blew her nose before opening the door.  
“Listen,” he began, “I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. It was wrong.”  
Now that she was face to face with him, she definitely wanted to keep it together. But she couldn’t, so she let out a pathetic sounding sob.  
“Hey, don’t cry. I’m not really good around girls when they cry.”  
She couldn’t hold it back, and she started crying once again.  
Ash looked extremely uncomfortable. He placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her before pulling her into an awkward hug.  
“Listen, I get that it’s hard. I’ve been in your shoes before. And I know I’m not making it any easier.”  
She buried her face into his chest and cried harder. Not long after that she felt his arms tighten around her just a bit.  
“I may have some clothes that could fit you tucked away somewhere if you wanted something else right now.”  
Felicia nodded, “I might feel a little better.”  
“Alright let me look,” he stated as he steered her to sit down on the bed.  
Sitting cross legged on the bed, she watched as Ash tore through his closet. After about fifteen minutes, he pulled a cardboard box down from the far left corner. He looked at the box tenderly before bringing it out into the room.  
He pulled each item out of the box gently. A soft blue teddy bear, a Michigan state sweatshirt, a couple pairs of pants, a toothbrush, and a framed picture of a pretty blonde woman. Ash’s face was blank. Each item clearly held great significance to him.  
Felicia sniffled and it brought him out of his reverie.  
“Here, they might be a little big but they should fit,” he said as he tossed her the sweatshirt and a pair of leggings.  
“Thanks man.”  
She found her way to the bathroom and changed quickly. He was right, it was all a little bit too big. Whoever these clothes belonged to was at least a couple of inches taller than her.  
Felicia wondered who the girl in the framed picture was. Clearly, she was special to Ash, but yet all of her stuff was packed up and hidden in a forgotten corner of his closet.  
“Bad break up,” she told her reflection.  
Suddenly there was a loud bang from the living room. She came out of the bathroom to see what the hell was going on.  
Ash was facing off with another one of those demons. It had somehow burst through the door and was cackling as it descended on him.

“Stay there Linda! I’ve got this!” he shouted at her.  
Then he froze. His eyes went wide as he looked at her and his shoulders fell. It was just enough of a distraction that the deadite was able to advance quickly on him. Ash dropped his shotgun as he was tackled to the ground.  
For a few seconds, she just stood there watching Ash struggle, but then a light bulb went off in her head. If she timed it right, she could grab the shotgun without the deadite on top of Ash noticing. She took a deep breath and dove for it. 

She aimed and cocked the gun. There was one slight flaw in her plan, she didn’t know how to shoot a gun. She would have to rely what she had seen in movies.  
“Ash, get out of the way!”  
He looked at her incredulously for just a half second before wrestling the deadite away from him. Felicia took a chance and fired. The gun kicked back into her shoulder, causing her to stumble back towards the door, but she had hit her target.  
Ash looked at her and then at the demon.  
“Good shot kid.”  
“Beginner’s luck,” she laughed as she rubbed her sore shoulder.  
He laughed as well and set about grabbing some stuff from behind his couch.  
“Can you grab me a trash bag? There under the sink.”  
Felicia nodded and fetched the bag. She watched as Ash pulled the writhing demon body on to a tarp. He set to work chopping it to pieces with an axe.  
“Total body dismemberment is the only way to get rid of them,” he explained, “if you don’t, they’ll come back.”  
She handed him the trash bag, “what about the ones that attacked out in the street?"  
He looked up at her, “shit.”


	3. Creature Comforts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, actually updating. I'll try not to take a month and a half next time.
> 
> I own nothing but Felicia Webb.

Less than an hour later, Felicia found herself in the passenger seat of Ash’s car as he drove up and down various streets in Detroit searching for deadites. She was bored out of her mind and still hungry. Every time they passed by a restaurant, her stomach growled a little louder.

“We’re not going to find them, Ash,” she groaned, “let’s just get some food, please. We can search after I’m fed.”

He grumbled a no.

“Ash, please.”

Finally, he glared at her and sighed, “fine, but something quick.”

He pulled into the closest fast food place-a McDonald’s. She noted the prices, sorely lower than what she had to deal with.

“You know a big mac by itself costs like four bucks now,” she commented, deciding what to get.

He laughed, “you’re shitting me.”

“Nope!” she chimed, “I think I’m going to have a regular cheeseburger and a coke.”

Ash pulled through and ordered for her as well as a big mac for himself.

Searching for deadites became far more agreeable as she munched on French fries and sipped down her coke. Something told her Ash was becoming annoyed with her point out every odd looking person as a deadite, but it amused her to see him so frustrated.

“I doubt we’re going to find it, Ash,” Felicia finally sighed, “she’s probably long gone by now.”

“You’re probably right. Hell, we’re risking running into more if we stay out any longer,” he finally admitted as he began to drive back to his apartment complex.

Felicia leaned her head against her window and watched as the night sky went by. This Detroit wasn’t too different from the one she knew. Some storefronts maybe looked a little newer and the people on the streets were dressed a little differently, but overall, it looked the same.

That was a small comfort.

At this point, she didn’t know how long she would be stuck in this time. For all she knew, there may not have been a way back. If that was true, at least her surroundings were the same.

“Do you think anyone back in my time has started to miss me yet?” she asked, quietly, not really expecting a response.

He glanced over at her, “I mean, maybe? Who knows? Depends on who you interact with on a daily basis.”

“I suppose someone probably will figure something’s up when I don’t show up for the class I TA,” she mused, “and I was supposed to meet with my advisor soon.”

“I bet someone put in a missing person report and everything,” he joked.

This didn’t make Felicia feel better.

“Fuck,” she muttered, “there’s probably blood on the carpet and I probably just dropped the knife before everything happened.”

“So they’ll think you’ve been murdered, so what? How surprised will they be when you show up alive and well.”

“How am I supposed to do that? That’s all happening thirty-four years from now.”

Ash went silent for a moment.

“You know that book you saw? I think we could find something in that,” he explained, “you said you knew how to read it. Problem solved.”

“I suppose it’s worth a shot,” Felicia shrugged.

Fifteen minutes later, Ash and Felicia were both sitting on the floor in his living room. The book was placed between them, both too nervous to actually open it. The twisted face on the front cover seemed to be taunting them. Its presence was making Felicia feel uneasy.

Finally, she took a deep breath and opened it. She grimaced at the gruesome illustrations and the red ink she knew to be blood.

“I can’t read this,” she finally admitted, “the copies I had were in Gaelic.”

Ash huffed, “you should have said something.”

“I told you that no one had the real thing! I thought maybe there might be some hope that there were passages in a language I could understand.”

“What language is this even?” he asked

“I’m not quite sure. People have theorized Arabic, Latin, or Greek, but this doesn’t look like any of those.”

She closed the book and placed it back down on the carpet.

“I guess that plan’s out,” she sighed, feeling hopeless, “unless you happen to know someone who can read this.”

He thought for a second, “there’s a bookstore not too far from here. It’s got all sorts of weird new age crap. Never been in there before but maybe there’s someone there who could translate it for us?”

“Probably. It’s worth a shot anyway.”

“Alright so we’ll head over there in the morning before I go to work,” he stated as he stood up and locked the book back in the trunk. A headache that Felicia hadn’t quite acknowledged subsided as soon as it was out of sight.

“Want a beer?” he asked.  
  
She picked herself up off the ground, “sure.”

Ash tossed her a can of PBR before cracking open his own. As she took a seat on the worn couch, Felicia didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She sipped her beer and her eyes nervously flitted towards Ash as he sat down next to her.

“So uh where do you work?”  she began, trying to fill the silence.

“S-Mart. Housewares,” he responded, “It’s not a perfect job, but it pays the bills.”

“Wait? S-mart?” she laughed, “really?”

“What’s so funny?’

“Nothing, really, but all of those got bought out and renamed to Value Stop like ten years ago. Or I guess, twenty years from now. They’re basically the same thing but I haven’t heard that name since I was a kid.”

It was Ash’s turn to laugh, “Well, let’s hope that I’m not still working there by then.”

“One of my friends from high school just got a job there. She’s not too thrilled about having to still work retail, but hey, times are hard.”

“What do you do then?”

“Struggling grad student,” she explained, “linguistics. Specifically Gaelic languages.”

“Sounds like a solid life plan, where do you think that’s going to take you?”  
  
“Academia, I suppose. As an undergrad, I had this grand plan of reviving Gaelic language and culture, but seeing as I’ve never actually been to the UK, I don’t know if that’s going to happen.”

“Well, at least you’re passionate about something. I dropped out right before I graduated. Really couldn’t take it anymore. Shit happened and I just didn’t care anymore.”

Felicia thought back to the picture of the woman tucked away in the back of his closet.

She furrowed her brow, “what happened?”  
  
“I’d really rather not talk about it, still kinda fresh in my mind.”

This did nothing to lessen Felicia’s curiosity.

“Did it have anything to do with Linda?” she pressed.

He crushed his can in his metal hand and threw it against the wall. Beer sprayed out on to the wall and the carpet. Felicia flinched.

“I told you I didn’t want to talk about it,” he grunted, “how do you know about Linda anyway?”

“You called me Linda when the deadite attacked earlier,” Felicia said softly, resigning that the woman in the photo definitely was her.

Ash sighed, “Linda was my girlfriend. She was, well, they got her.”

Felicia felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach.

“I suppose I better tell you,” he said after a few moments of silence.

“Only if you want. We can drop it if it’s too hard.”

He shook his head, “no, you’re tangled up in this mess now too.”

Taking a deep breath, Ash proceeded to tell her everything. Explaining the trip to the cabin, the book, how he had to kill and dismember his friends, his girlfriend, his sister one by one. How he had to cut his own hand off after it became possessed. How, with the help of a total stranger who also ended up dead, he became trapped in the middle ages. How, because of his own stupidity, the evil still plagued him.

Even though he had bragged about some of his adventures earlier, Felicia could hear the hurt in his voice. From the outside, Ash appeared as brash and confident. Nothing phased him. He was big and strong and brave. In this moment, he was a scared little boy lost in the woods.

 

Wanting to provide some form of comfort, Felicia linked her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder. After a few moments, Ash took her hand in his and rested his head against hers. The two remained like that, in silence, for what seemed like an eternity. Just two strangers forced together by even stranger circumstances, with only each other to hold on to for stability.


End file.
